Shelter
by Alinah
Summary: COMPLETE. Tiny Legolas-Aragorn friendship story. A storm forces Legolas and Aragorn to seek shelter - but not every danger comes from without...


Hi!  
  
Just a tiny little story - I seem to suffer from serious withdrawal symptoms now that my first longer story is finished and the next one is not quite ready to be put down... Add lack of sleep, and this story is what you get.  
  
I took some liberties concerning Legolas´ family which Tolkien did not give us too many details about.  
  
OK, just read and enjoy.  
  
And as always, I would be very thankful for reviews!!  
  
Alinah  
  
Rating: PG 13 (for angst, injury)  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine at all, just borrowed  
  
Shelter  
  
The sudden gust made Aragorn shiver. Throughout the day the wind had been gathering strength, chasing steadily darkening clouds across the torn autumn sky, and it seemed that now the weather would abandon its games and engage them in a deadly chase if they did not hide from it. The ranger sighed to himself, knowing very well that the idea of seeking shelter would not sit well with his travelling companion.  
  
Trudging stoically ahead of him, the lithe form of the elf did not waver in the rising turmoil of dead leaves that encircled him. He had tucked his long blond hair under his hood a while ago to keep it out of his face and appeared totally untouched by any other effect of the storm. Only his dark green cloak showed a reaction, whipping about the slender frame in growing anxiety. The elf was clearly not inclined to any kind of rest. The steady pace he had kept throughout the past few days had not slackened in the least.  
  
Aragorn sighed again and turned his sharp grey eyes upwards, taking in the blueish tinge of the air itself as the rain-laden clouds closed in on them. No matter how much he honored his friend´s need for urgency, there was no avoiding the fact that they would put themselves in lethal danger if they kept ignoring nature´s warnings.  
  
Quickening his steps, Aragorn caught up with Legolas. He carefully kept his glance on the swaying trees that groaned around them. "We should heed the weather and find ourselves a place to wait out the storm´s fury", he said, not wasting meaningless words to shroud his intent, "we have made good time already today. I am sure we will be there before nightfall tomorrow."   
  
For long moments there was no reply, and against his plans the ranger found himself turning towards his friend to seek out his face. He had done so numerous times since they had received the message several days ago. His attempts to read his friend´s mind and find a way to offer him solace had been to no avail, though. The mask Legolas usually dropped around the ranger remained firmly in place and effectively hid his feelings, even though Aragorn knew him well enough to sense them boiling beneath his stoic expression. To his dismay, the elf seemed to grow more withdrawn the closer they came to their destination.  
  
Aragorn was sure that Legolas had not slept for more than a few passing moments, refusing his friend´s offers to stand watch at night and even staying up with him when the ranger had simply taken matters into his own hands and made himself their sentinel, trying in vain to force his friend to rest. He had hardly eaten, either, and the sheer amount of sadness and grim tension that emanated from him was hard to bear. Aragorn knew well how keenly Elves felt their losses, having grown up with two who had suffered a similar fate to that of the Mirkwood prince. He trusted his friend´s usually merry spirit to overcome the gloom once he had fulfilled his obligation. Still, the wish to see the elf back to his old carefree self almost dwarfed everything else.   
  
Obviously feeling eyes on him, Legolas looked at his friend, even though he did nothing to slow his steps. "Alhi" //Not now//, he answered softly, "alagos dartha." //The storm [still] waits.// Aragorn had to forcibly stop himself from shaking his head in annoyance. There was no way the elf would misread the weather like that, his experience and skill clearly surpassed the human´s. His distress was beginning to cloud his judgement, a realization that sent a shiver of unease through the man.  
  
"It has waited all day already, mellon-nin", he replied, trying to keep his tone light, "and it has grown tired of it. There is little time left before the rain will come down hard, and the gusts will pick up speed. We should better be away from shattering branches once it comes to that."   
  
A shadow of anger passed Legolas` face at these words, soaked up by his mask of calm so quickly that most would have missed it. Nevertheless, he glanced around him, his eyes loosing some of their former distance. The dark clouds had begun to cluster and dense. The trees´ baring branches rustled in what Aragorn guessed to be fearful expectation, but he was sure the elf could read the message much more clearly.   
  
So sudden it took Aragorn completely by surprise, Legolas stopped and placed one hand atop of the rough bark of the nearest tree, closing his eyes. The ranger stood back behind him and waited as patiently as he could, even though his senses passed warning after warning to him. Above them, the storm ripped through the swaying wood with enough force to make it rattle, and Aragorn wondered why his friend sought confirmation of a danger so blatantly obvious - but then, he knew. Legolas had shown grim determination to travel without rest, and any delay would weight like a shadow on his soul.  
  
The first heavy raindrops began to plunge down on them, daylight fading fast although it should have lasted for at least another hour, and Aragorn had already extended a hesitant hand towards his friend when the elf finally broke his connection. The mask on his face slipped for a heartbeat, showing sorrow and fear at war on the fair features. "You are right, my friend", he said simply, "please forgive my lack of judgement." He fell silent, watching Aragorn for a reaction, and the ranger felt like he was getting through to his friend for the first time in what seemed forever him. He offered a small smile when he answered. "Do not trouble yourself. We are both at home in the woods and should not encounter too much trouble braving an upcoming storm."  
  
How wrong that statement proved to be. Legolas had allowed Aragorn to lead them on, the exhaustion he had to feel somehow catching up with him as the weather did, and the ranger quickly grew from worried to frantic in his search for shelter. The storm had lingered close by for hours, but now that it had made up its mind to strike, it did so with the speed of an attacking warg. The rain quickly turned into a massive downpour that had both travellers soaked within seconds and further impaired their vision which was already greatly hampered by the lack of light.  
  
The rush of the water began to cut them off from the rest of the world and Aragorn found it increasingly difficult to even keep his eyes open against the onslaught of the water the wind drove into his eyes - let alone keep up his search for a safe place where they might hide from the forces of nature. Legolas trailed behind him, even more oblivious to his surroundings than he had been before, and Aragorn knew better than to expect assistance from him.   
  
It was this lack of attention, so very uncharacteristic for the elf, that made their situation turn from bad to worse. Aragorn had spotted a cluster of rocks not far off among the trees and had stopped, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to judge whether it would do for them, when he suddenly he heard a sharp crack overhead. Eyes whipping up, he saw the huge branch coming straight towards him and threw himself to the side to avoid it. He did so neatly, but a fresh gust of wind caught the heavy wood and made it sway from its original path.  
  
Legolas had wearily rested his back against a tree trunk, secure in the knowledge that the ranger had to have a good reason for halting their rush. His ears detected the snapping branch immediately and urged his body into action, but somehow it refused to comply. For a fleeting moment the elf simply anticipated the impact he knew was unavoidable, hoping to balance it by putting his hands against the tree behind him. The wood sang out its warning, but there was nothing he could do. When the branch crashed into him, it knocked him to the side with enough force to send him flying several paces. The darkness that followed was welcome.  
  
Aragorn´s breath caught in his throat when he saw his friend go down and stay down, eyes closed. All thoughts of shelter momentarily forgotten, he dashed to Legolas´ side and hastily searched for a pulse. The rush of relief when he found one was dimmed by the sight of the branch that lay beside the elf. Its sheer size spoke of the damage it must have inflicted, and the rain-swept forest was the last place he would like to treat such an injury in. But there was no choice. He very quickly checked Legolas over. There was no bleeding, and he thanked the Valar for little favours. Running his hands gently over the still body, he probed for the breaks he knew for a fact had to be there, and the unconscious elf moaned under his breath when he touched his ribs. Those would need to be bound, but for now Legolas did not seem inclined to move and there were more urgent matters.  
  
The man stripped off his cloak and spread it over his still friend in an act that was more gesture than physically helpful and then forced himself to turn his attention to the rocks he had discovered. His earlier hope to have found shelter had now turned so urgent it burned through every fibre of his body. He made his way across as quickly as he could against the strong hands of the wind that pushed and pulled him without mercy. He loathed to leave Legolas unattended but it would not do to move the elf more than need be. His healer´s instincts clearly overrode those of friendship at the moment, and he allowed them to.  
  
The rocks did not form a cave so much as a tight circle. They slightly bent at the top and nearly touched, leaving a hole for the rain to pour through, but the ground was sloping, thus keeping dry a spot that would hold both elf and ranger. Aragorn had survived in worse shelters, but he was painfully aware that he would be able to do very little healing here. There was no room for a fire. His first priority was to get Legolas out of the storm and harm´s way, however, and this purpose the little cave would serve.  
  
When Aragorn returned, he found to his relief that the elf had opened his eyes, even though he seemed to recognise little of what was happening around him. As gently as he could, the ranger propped his friend against him and then lifted him off the ground. He had placed one hand against Legolas´ ribcage in the process and almost dropped his friend again at the sharp outcry of pain he caused. He could actually feel the broken bones give way slightly under his grip and quickly lowered the elf down again. Both were panting hard, Legolas from a searing pain that had pushed him back to the edge of darkness and Aragorn from the wave of guilt he felt. In his haste he had completely neglected to adjust his actions to the injuries he had found earlier. Tiredly he touched his friend´s face, seeking forgiveness as he watched some awareness return to the pain-filled eyes.   
  
He took a steadying breath and carefully placed his hands this time to avoid jostling the broken ribs more than need be, and even though the elf could not stifle a gasp, the pain seemed more bearable and they reached the rocks without further incident. Aragorn very slowly made his way in, turning and lowering himself down with his back against the wall. He kept his hold on his friend until he himself was firmly settled and then gently pulled the elf against his chest. He drew both of the cloaks around them, even though they were wet and offered more a pretence of comfort than a real one.  
  
Weariness washed over Aragorn and he briefly closed his eyes. He could hear the storm raging all around them, but the two friends were now spared from its anger in their rocky shelter. A strange feeling of peace settled over him. He turned his healer´s senses towards his friend and was glad at what he found. The elf´s breaths were slightly too fast but they were not laboured, ruling out a punctured lung. He felt fairly sure that once the storm´s fury had passed and he had had the chance to properly treat his friend, he would recover.   
  
He was so confident in his findings that the elf´s whispered words struck him unprepared. "I will not make it." There was both unshakeable knowledge and sorrow in his voice. "How can I fail now..." Aragorn fought the panic that strove to overwhelm him but was overrun by it. He could hear it leak out of him even when he tried to reassure his friend. "Nay, mellon-nin, ech belda." //No, my friend, you are strong.// He wanted to say more but did not trust he voice to hold, so he simply drew the elf close, offering all the comfort he could.  
  
"Alfar belda." //Not that strong.// Legolas shifted slightly and winced at the pain, but he continued to speak. He had not done so in such an unguarded manner since he had received his brother´s letter, and in spite of the fear Aragorn felt for his friend´s life he cherished the trust he finally put in him. "Man anno answar ten idhrind sina?" //Who [will] honor her this year?// he asked quietly, "ha gwaedh-nin."//It [was] my duty.// A shuddering breath escaped him and Aragorn felt torn suddenly - torn between joy and sorrow.  
  
He had misread his friend´s words in his anxiety and had failed to notice what they were directed at. "He heniothon" //She will understand// he soothed, "hun cin na ten." //your heart is with her.// They were quiet for long moments, the howls of the storm momentarily increasing, but strangely far away. It almost seemed as if an invisible blanket had fallen over the small refuge, adding to its security.   
  
Aragorn began to wonder whether the elf had fallen asleep, but Legolas´ soul was too troubled to find rest just yet. "Every year now, every year since her passing my mother has been honored", he sighed, "at least one of our family would visit the place of her slaying and plant a new seed. Many trees have grown in her name, and now the line shall be broken because I failed."   
  
So this had been his fear, Aragorn realized, ever since receiving his brother´s note that he would have to take over the task this year. His agitation, his detached manner, all due to fearing failure in the face of his mother who long ago had passed to the Halls of Manos. It was a fear Aragorn could deeply understand, yet he knew that it was falsely placed.  
  
"How could you fail her?" The man´s question was soft but full of confidence. "You have tried everything in your power to reach her grove. And you will reach it. You will plant the new tree and it will prosper and bloom all the better for the strength you will put into it. Estel meleth tin. //Trust her love.// I am sure she treasures your life far more than the date you plant her tree."   
  
Legolas did not reply to his friend´s words, but Aragorn sensed some of the tension leave him. At last, the elf spoke again, dreamily. "Tegin doron. "//I bring an oak.// He drifted off, clearly fighting sleep now. "She loved to sit beneath the one beside the stream...she sang about it..." His voice grew distant, and Aragorn could feel his battered body finally giving in to the beckoning darkness.  
  
The ranger continued to hold the elf as the storm raged overhead, so strong yet unable to touch them in their shelter.  
  
The end 


End file.
